


fill my lungs with sweetness

by mywordsflyup



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dancing, Established Relationship, Inquisitor Carver Hawke, Kissing, M/M, Post-Trespasser, Protectiveness, The Winter Palace (Dragon Age), Trespasser DLC, Warden Felix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 09:48:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6189742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mywordsflyup/pseuds/mywordsflyup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felix and Carver steal away for some private time at the Winter Palace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fill my lungs with sweetness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chiarascura](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiarascura/gifts).



> For the tumblr prompt "A Hope We Don't Get Caught Kiss".
> 
> [Byacolate](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/Byacolate/) and I once talked at length about Carver being completely oblivious to the fact that people are interested in him. Let's be real, that boy is more inclined to believe that people want to fuck with him than that they want to fuck him.

Somehow he hoped that disbanding the Inquisition would also mean he wouldn’t have to attend these kinds of functions anymore. Some may call it cynical but Carver figures that stopping a Qunari invasion and losing an arm in the process should get him out of balls and formal receptions for at least a year. Or two. Or for however long it takes for a swift death to claim him. 

 

But here he is. In the Winter Palace once more. He knows the place too well by now, from its pompous gold decor to the shining marble floor - no doubt scrubbed clean by countless elven servants only to be trampled on by Orlesians and their fancy shoes. Who in their right mind puts jewels on their shoes anyway? 

 

“Hey.” Felix’s voice is soft but enough to pull him back into the here and now. Which is made immeasurably better just through Felix’s presence. “I hope my dancing isn’t the reason for your frown?” He smiles and then squeezes Carver’s right hand.

 

Carver shakes his head and releases Felix for an elegant spin before he falls back into his arms again. “You know you dance well.” 

 

“Well, thank you. My teachers back in Tevinter will be pleased to hear it.” He leans in, just a hint too close than strictly appropriate. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

 

Carver scoffs but he knows it’s not really a lie. He knows the steps by heart - well enough that his mind can wander in the middle of the dance floor without anyone but Felix noticing. The old Carver from just a few years ago would’ve laughed at the mere idea of him dancing like this.

 

He leads Felix over the floor, spinning and turning and skillfully weaving their way through the other couples, without so much as stepping on anyone’s toes. It’s not the kind of dancing he almost enjoys - the swaying, private kind where Felix is his only partner and audience. No, the kind of dance they expect from him in Halamshiral is a performance, as stiff and inflexible as the collar of his dress uniform. Enduring it with Felix makes it bearable, at least. 

 

“You’re drifting again,” Felix chides, his voice so low that Carver can hardly hear it over the music. “Don’t leave me alone here.” 

 

Carver makes a face. “Sorry. I’m here. Just…” He almost messes up the next step but catches himself at the last moment. “Just frustrated.” 

 

Felix makes a contemplative noise and his eyes flick to a group of masked nobles standing at the edge of the dance floor. “Not as frustrated as they are.” Carver follows his gaze but the next twirl puts another pair of dancers between them. “They’ve been staring at us all evening.” 

 

A familiar feeling pricks in Carver’s chest. He’s seen his fair share of assassins masquerading as nobles just to pull a knife on him in some dark corner of the palace when he least expects it. And it’s not as if he’s gotten more popular over the years. “Are you certain? Should I alert someone? They could be-”

 

“Relax.” Felix smiles up at him. “They’re not here to stab anyone. Unless it gets them a chance to dance with you, I guess.” 

 

“Huh?” This time it does cause him to mess up a step. Felix follows and corrects it without missing a beat. 

 

“Carver,” he says and his hand on Carver’s shoulder flexes, “you look very fetching in this uniform. And I’m not the only one with eyes.” 

 

Carver scoffs. He’s used to Felix’s compliments by now but that doesn’t mean he’s immune to the flush that creeps up his neck. “What makes you think they’re not looking at you?” Turning Felix’s compliments around usually buys him some time and earns him a smile. He only gets the latter this time. 

 

“My Orlesian might be a bit rusty,” Felix says. “But it’s still good enough to pick up on the essential points of a conversation. In this case, the breadth of your shoulders.”

 

“Oh. Right.” Carver keeps his eyes on Felix’s face, especially now that they are passing the group of nobles he pointed out. He thinks he hears a few giggles but they are in the middle of the dance floor again before he can be certain. 

 

“Careful now,” Felix says with a little smile. “The song’s coming to an end.” 

 

He’s right. Just a few more steps and Carver lowers Felix into a small dip, still a little tricky with just one arm. He does well enough, judging by the applause that rises up around them and the bright smile Felix gives him. 

 

From the corner of his eye, Carver spots a movement. It’s not the dangerous kind that would cause his defenses to go up but the unfocused slinking of nobles making their way across the ballroom towards them. The light of the candles catches in the gleaming silver of their masks and Carver almost wishes for an assassin in their midst. 

 

“Do you need an escape?” Felix asks and laces his fingers with his. Carver nods, already turning his body as if to at least shield Felix from the oncoming storm. Felix tightens the grip on his hand and pulls him with him. 

 

Where Carver’s sure he would’ve had to push his way through, Felix weaves through the crowd with nothing more than a few taps on shoulders and apologetic smiles. He has to admit it’s much more efficient this way - both for moving forward and for leaving behind a group of pesky nobles. Still, Carver can’t truly breathe freely until Felix pulls him through a door and out onto a small balcony. The door falls shut behind them and noise of the ball falls away. With a deep sigh Carver leans against the balustrade. 

 

“You’re a lifesaver,” he says. “One more second of-” 

 

“Shhh.” Felix steps forwards and presses one finger against Carver’s lips, with just enough pressure to shut him up. “There are people in the gardens below,” he whispers. “Don’t let them hear you.” 

 

Just then the sound of laughter cuts through the night air and when Carver turns his head a bit, he can see a young couple walking on the path just below them. There are more people, shiny masks and glittering dresses visible through the maze of hedges and lattices. If it weren’t for the dark, they surely would’ve spotted Carver and Felix immediately. 

 

But as it is, they’re hidden by shadows, just two men seeking refuge from the chaos of the festivities. Felix’s finger is still on his lips and Carver nips it. 

 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve planned all of this,” he says, keeping his voice down. 

 

Felix grins and his hand drops to rest against Carver’s chest. “If I had, I would’ve chosen a better hiding spot. Here we could get caught at any moment.” 

 

“Is that so? Then we better make the most of it.” Carver knows how to use the element of surprise to his advantage and holds on to Felix to spin them around until he can crowd him against the balustrade. Felix lets out a delighted gasp that’s far too loud and both of them freeze when they hear steps halt on the path below.

 

It feels like an age before whoever is down there decides to keep walking and Carver can feel Felix shaking with suppressed laughter. Carver’s cheeks are hot as if they’ve already been caught and even though he doubts Felix can see it in the dark, he still lifts his hand so cup the side of his face, one thumb gently running over Carver’s cheek. 

 

“You can kiss me now,” Felix says as if Carver needs any more convincing. 

 

He’s been dying to kiss him all night. But while intrigue and political machinations are completely acceptable at an Orlesian ball, public displays of affections are rather frowned upon. Carver is fairly certain that if all of them were as lucky as he is, stupid rules like that would soon be a thing of the past. 

 

He leans down to brush his lips against Felix’s. But either Felix is much more concerned about getting caught than he let on or he’s even more impatient than Carver. He slips on hand to the back of Carver’s neck, already running his fingers through his hair, while with the other, he holds on to the front of Carver’s uniform, pulling him down into a deep kiss. 

 

Even with his back pressed against the balustrade, Felix positions Carver just as he likes. When his leg slips in between Carver’s thighs, with just the right amount of pressure, Carver lets out an involuntary groan that Felix silences with another kiss. He licks into his mouth and hums happily when Carver tightens the grip on his hip. 

 

In the distance he can hear more laughter and somewhere behind them in the ballroom the musicians have started playing again, but Carver doesn’t care about anything but Felix’s lips on his and on his jaw and on his throat and about his clever fingers loosening his tight collar just enough to sink his teeth into the skin of his neck. Carver bites his lip to keep from moaning when Felix sucks a mark right on his pulse point and follows up with a gentle swipe of his tongue. It’s high enough that Carver knows it will be visible even after straightening his collar and rejoining the nobles in the ballroom. 

 

When he says as much, Felix looks up at him through thick lashes and smiles beatifically. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, amatus.” His gaze lingers on Carver’s lips. “Now kiss me again before someone finds us. I’m sure Josephine is already looking for us.” 

 

Carver doesn’t need to be asked twice. 

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from The Paper Kites' "Bloom". 
> 
> You can also follow my [tumblr](http://damnable-rogue.tumblr.com) if you're interested.


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